


A Twisted Kind Of Pity

by crumbsfiction



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, or the story of how levi joined the corps, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 11:57:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/965662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crumbsfiction/pseuds/crumbsfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”His name is Levi”, Erwin tells her and she sneezes as the dust from the books rises up as she assembles them in a haphazard pile. The papers strewn about she’ll have to deal with later, but right now her stomach is aching for food and the staff has promised beef for tonight. Erwin continues. ”He is positively the most lethal person I have ever met.”</p><p>The story of how Erwin managed to get Levi to join the Scouting Corps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Twisted Kind Of Pity

”His name is Levi”, Erwin tells her and she sneezes as the dust from the books rises up as she assembles them in a haphazard pile. The papers strewn about she’ll have to deal with later, but right now her stomach is aching for food and the staff has promised beef for tonight. Erwin continues. ”He is positively the most lethal person I have ever met.”

”Including me?” she asks, adjusting her glasses before they can slide further down her nose. She’s only half listening, one part of her mind on her research and the other on her plans for the night as she whirls about her office, assembling and dissembling piles in the organized chaos that is her working space.

”I would say he had a good chance of surpassing you in a matter of months, actually. No disrespect, of course.”

She barks a laugh at that, because hell, aside from the Commander himself, she’s by far the best soldier there is out there. How could some punk kid from the inner walls even come close to where she had gotten trough years of hard work in a matter of weeks?

Erwin says nothing, just places a broken blade on the table in front of her, and she recognizes the handle as one of the Commander’s own, custom made. The sword itself has been snapped cleanly in half and she doesn’t have time to speak; _a scouting mission without me? Colour me hurt and offended_ , before Erwin speaks.

“He kicked it.”

“In half? He kicked it in half?” she asks, incredulously, because he’s got to be joking, _who the hell kicks a blade in half_ , but the Commander just gives her a deadpan look that tells her that _hey, you’ve got competition_. Hanji exhales.

“And you’re planning on taming this kid how, exactly?” she asks, because she too can now see the glimmering potential, smells it like Mike sniffs out their enemies on particularly windy missions, and she’s almost intrigued.

Erwin just gives her what by his standards would count as a smirk and she stops, because she knows that face, knows that he’s got a strategy with at least fifty seven steps, _how to tame a inner wall thug_ , and he speaks. “Tame him? That would be a horrible waste of potential energy,” the Commander says and she cocks one brow.

“I’m sure you’ll meet him soon enough,” Erwin says as he turns to leave her to her scribbled notes and chewed-through books. “You’ll understand by then.”

Hanji stares holes in his back but Erwin offers no further explanations. “Looking forward to it,” she says instead, picking up a discarded pen from the floor. The door swings shut behind him.

-

The air inside the inner walls smells like a strange mix of coal and something Erwin cannot identify and he finds himself missing the pure, clean air of the lands outside the walls. He pulls his hood up after he passes through the checkpoint, his face effectively lain in shadow, hidden from eyes that are not to find him today.

The inner city has always been an enigma to Erwin, a place where the wealthiest mix with those barely scrape by, living in the street corners and the more than shady blocks closest to the wall.

This is where he met him for the first time, and hopes to meet him for the second. A few well-places words here, a few coins tucked into a dirty hand there, and he’s pointed in the direction of a swarthy back-street behind what he thinks is a the shop of a tobacco dealer and a brothel in one. He stands there for a minute or two, wondering if he’d just been ripped off when there’s a voice calling out behind him.

“Are you lost, soldier?”

Erwin spins to find the source of the voice but is faces with only an old brick wall, darkened in patches by splotches of coal. There are bricks of various sizes sticking out of it that would make good handles for climbing, he notes.

“Up here, asshat. Aren’t you scouts supposed to always be on the lookout?”

Sure enough, Levi is balancing on the edge of the roof ( _far too close for someone who has never used 3DMG in his life and wouldn’t be able to catch himself if he fell, Erwin thinks but quickly shakes the thought away. It’s not his problem, after all_ ), holding what looks like a beat up backpack in one hand and a piece of bread in the other.

“To be fair, you are considerably smaller than a Titan,” Erwin deadpans and for a second it looks like Levi can’t decide if he should be offended or amused. He settles on an angry scowl instead.

“What brings you to this lovely neighbourhood then, soldier? Business or pleasure?” Levi asks before shoving the piece of bread into his mouth and slinging the backpack over one shoulder. He climbs down the wall with a sense of grace and effortlessness that would make even the greatest of soldiers go green with envy.

“Business, mainly,” Erwin responds as Levi lets go of the bricks and jumps the last meter or so to land on the ground in front of him. What happens next is a blur of movements and suddenly he’s pressed up against the wall and Erwin feels the cold blade of a knife pressed against his throat, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to cut skin.

It’s almost humorous, the way a Corporal is so easily overpowered by a scrawny kid whose head just reaches his chest but not further and he fights the urge to huff a laugh. In this situation, he has the intuition that it wouldn’t exactly help his case.

“Well, you know what, soldier?” Levi breathes, his eyes boring into Erwin’s like a bradawl. “You should make it your business to stay out of mine.”

Erwin swallows and he feels the movement against the knife still being held against his throat. _You’re a soldier_ , he reminds himself. _Control, you have control_.

Quicker than any of them can think, he makes a movement to grab Levi’s arm and twist it behind his back but the shorter male dances out of the way and they end up an arms length apart, eyes locked in a battle of will and pure stubbornness.

“Fine,” Erwin says at last, because he’s not too proud to admit defeat when he’s forced to. Levi shoves the knife back into the holster hidden under the jacket that is too big on him and too thin for the season.

“Good to know you’re not completely suicidal,” he says and turns to leave without taking his eyes of the blonde.

“Well, I am a member of the scouting legion,” Erwin says and there is the slightest hint of a pull on Levi’s lips as he turns his head and walks away.

Erwin lets out the breath he didn’t notice he was holding.

-

He looks for him every time he’s sent to the Inner District and doesn’t tell anyone but Hanji. She holds a strange interest for this boy who she’s never met, but then again, he holds a strange interest for many things, including Titan saliva, so he doesn’t think much of it.

_“Did you see him?”_

_“Not this time, Hanji. Maybe in a few days when I’m to deliver last week’s scouting reports.”_

_“Let me know, will you?”_

_“Sure.”_  
  
-

The third time they meet, Levi is crouching in another alley with blood gushing from cuts on his face, his arms and torso and Erwin can only imagine how much they must sting. He realizes then that even though the boy is small, he has never seen him as such, confidence mixed with arrogance radiating off his tiny frame in shockwaves. Erwin wonders how much of it is faked, façade upon façade in a twisted game he cannot begin to comprehend.

Levi is thinner than last time they met, the jacket that was already too big for him slipping off his shoulder. His collarbones jut out far too much, every bone in his shoulder exposed in knots against almost transparent skin. He looks up then, finally, and Erwin has to resist the urge to flinch when he meets eyes hollow in a way only the most experienced soldier’s in the Legion are.

“Hello, soldier,” Levi says and grimaces in a way that Erwin suspects was supposed to be a smirk.

“What happened to you?”

“Oh, you know. Pissed off the wrong people. They’ll come back and finish me off soon enough though, so you should prance your pretty little ass away before you get any blood on those shiny white pants of yours.”

Erwin just sighs. Levi’s left hand is clutching his calf, something he didn’t notice before, and he sees the bloodstain slowly spreading across the dark linen of his pants.

“Come on,” he says before he can make himself think this through, _and he always thinks things through, always ten steps ahead of everyone else, always a plan_ , and grabs Levi’s elbow to pull him to his feet. “Can’t have you bleeding to death here.”

Levi unexpectedly trashes against his touch, squirming to put as much distance between the two of them as he can in the tiny alley. He protests loudly as Erwin pulls him by the arm (uninjured, as far as he can tell) towards the main street. It’s late and most people have long since retreated to their homes, the ones who are left roaming Sina are not the types to ask questions, especially not in the presence of a military man.

They’re only a block away from the rooms assigned to him during his visit and he can only pray that the guards have already slipped into an alcohol-induced coma. Levi is still pulling at the arm Erwin is holding, but the vocal protests have died down and he’s hardly making any real effort to escape. _The blood loss_ , Erwin thinks and he quickens his pace, dragging along the surly teenager behind him.

Luck seems to be on his side as the guards are nowhere to be seen around the front door and Erwin makes quick work of the stairs leading to his rooms. He’s reaching for the key in his pocket when Levi starts trashing with increased effort. Suddenly a boot connects with Erwin’s thigh and he’s got to admit that the kid can _kick._

He supresses the urge to wince and instead puts his best Corporal face in place, the one he uses on recruits who like to make disobeying a game and Levi shrinks a little under his stare.

“What are you going to do to me?” He asks, and if wasn’t for the fact that this was Levi, scornful and reckless, he would have almost thought that he sounded scared.

Erwin sighs again and pulls his free hand through his hair, _have to get it cut soon_ , and then looks down at the wooden floor, where drops of Levi’s blood have started to collect into a small puddle. Courtesy of the kick, most likely.

“I’m going to patch you up,” Erwin says and with a glance at the thin wrist connected to the elbows he’s holding adds, “and possibly get you something to eat.”

“What do you want from me?” Levi asks, voice dripping with suspicion, “If you’re looking for some fresh meat you’ve come to the wrong guy. I won’t spread my goddamn legs for you just because you’re trying to play nice.”

Erwin resist the urge to sigh for the umpteenth time and reaches for the key instead. “Why do you have to make it so difficult? I’m just trying to help,” he says and Levi’s frown deepens more, if possible.

“I don’t need your goddamn pity,” he says. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Erwin replies, throwing a glance at the cuts covering Levi’s body. The boy just scowls.

Finally, the door opens with a creek and Erwin all but pushes Levi inside. He stumbles for a bit before regaining his balance and for a moment, Erwin almost feels bad for him. In the light of the lanterns he’s left burning he can really take a look at the boy and he’s got to admit that he truly looks miserable. Apart from the obvious injuries and weight loss, Levi’s hair is a mess and his clothes are old and beat up. The sole on one of his boots are loose and on the other, the laces are missing.

“Considering your reputation, I would have thought you would bathe in money,” Erwin says and Levi throws him a look that can only be described as disdainful.

“I’m not at the top of the food chain. Not yet, at least.”

“Making a career out of it?” Erwin asks and expects nothing but a snarky remark back.

Levi is silent for a moment, before letting out a quiet huff of breath. “Does it seem to you like I have a choice?”

That throws Erwin off his beat. He isn’t sure what to reply, so instead he turns to heating up some water and finding a clean rag.

He points Levi to the armchair next to the window and the boy sinks down into the cushioned seat arms close to his stomach as if he’s embracing himself. It’s heart breaking, in a way. Erwin doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He returns to his meddling in the kitchenette.

The water is just a little more than lukewarm, but it’ll do, Erwin decides. He pours it into a wooden bowl and grabs the rag he prepared. Levi is still frozen at the spot in his armchair and the look in his eyes begs him not to come closer. Like a wounded animal, Erwin thinks. He comes closer anyway.

“Okay, I need you to take your pants off,” he says and realizes too late that he could have worded that a lot better.

“I already told you, I don’t-“ Levi starts, but Erwin quickly interrupts.

“Pull the up, then. You don’t want that to get infected,” He adds with a glace to the large bloodstain on Levi’s calf. The boy just looks at him for a moment before seemingly decided that it’s not worth the fight. He pulls the fabric up to his knee and Erwin whistles at the sight. The wound isn’t big, but it’s deep and it has got to hurt like a bitch.

“They weren’t messing around, were they?” He asks as he dips the rag in the water and squeezes it back out. Levi rolls his eyes.

“Well then,” Erwin continues. “This is going to sting.”

Levi lets out a small hiss as the rag connects to his torn skin and Erwin tries to make it as quick as possible. He cleans up the blood around the wound, tries to get any dirt out of it, rinses, repeats. The bleeding has mostly stopped, the skin trying to seal itself back together, but Erwin quickly realizes that it’ll need a bandage.

“Stay put,” he says, and turns to his bags, rummaging trough them until he finds a roll of clean bandages. Years of practice renders the task and easy once and after a few changes of water and rags, the smaller cuts on Levi’s face and arms are cleaned up as well.

“All done,” Erwin says finally, breaking the silence that had settled over the two of them. Levi meets his eye for the first time since he entered the room, grey eyes looking up at him from under his bangs.

“Thanks,” he says and then looks away like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do. Erwin wonders how long it’s been since someone touched Levi without the intent of hurting him.

Levi pulls his legs up under him and circles his stomach with his arms again. Erwin settles down on the carpet.

“I should get going,” Levi says after a moment of silence and starts unwrapping himself, glances to where his boots have been discarded of the floor.

“Do you have anywhere to stay tonight?” Erwin asks and reminds himself that he doesn’t care, not really. He knows that he’s not doing this for Levi but for himself. He’s a better man than Levi, a stronger man than Levi and what he’s doing right now is nothing but feeding his own ego. It’s a twisted kind of pity.

He figures he should tell him that.

“I’ll find something,” Levi replies and makes a motion as if to stand up.

 _Pity_ , Erwin thinks and the words fly out of his mouth before he can stop them. “Why don’t you stay here then? There’s a spare mattress and a couple blankets. Should be better than the streets, at least.”

Levi seems to actually contemplate his offer for a moment. “No,” he says then, “I don’t even know you. You could be some psycho for all I know. Or a snorer.”

“Your choice,” Erwin says and pushes himself off the floor. Levi pulls the boot without lacing on.

“Don’t you have any family?” he asks then and Levi glares at him again from under his shaggy bangs.

“Not anymore,” he replies after a beat of silence.

Erwin nods. His mother and father are still alive, supporting his every move, cheering him on from the background. “Got to be tough. I think I understand.” The last part is a lie.

Levi’s glare suddenly turns to venom. “You don’t know shit about having it tough,” he spits, “Erwin Smith, from a respectable family and respectable home. Every time I see you, you’ve got new badges on that god-awful jacket of yours. They’re singing your praises in every bar in Sina. Don’t you even try to understand what it’s like to live like me, you fucking ass.”

He doesn’t let the sudden outburst faze him.

“How did you even end up like this? You’re what, fifteen?” Erwin asks and the curiosity is actually nipping at the edges of his mind.

“I’m seventeen,” Levi replies and starts lacing up the boot with the loose sole.

“Just a kid,” Erwin says and Levi glares even more at that. “How do you even justify the things your people do?”

He knows about them, the underground crime rings, because who doesn’t, really? The smuggling, the contraband information, the prostitution. It’s dirty and ugly and Erwin wouldn’t want to touch it with a ten foot pole. _Yet here I am and here we are_.

“Who do you think has the cleanest conscience, us or those stuck-up priests that believe that these cages for walls were gifts from some unknown divine powers and spew their shameless lies for every fucking soul around to hear? Or maybe the top-ranked officers who more than willingly exchange a blind eye for a reasonable sum of money or provisions, what about them? We, at least, are honest about what we do and why we do it and let me tell you, our motivations are often far more justifiable than theirs.”

“Tell me your story, then. What’s your motivation?”

Levi sighs and pulls at the hair at the nape if his neck.

“You Scouts claim to fight for a higher purpose, to serve humanity and retake territory or whatever. People like me, we don’t have the luxury. We fight for ourselves, to get trough another day without starving to death in an alley. If we don’t fight, we die. It’s as simple as that.”

He wasn’t expecting an answer. Unconsciously, he’s already put the kid at a different level than himself, a far lower level, and tonight he’s just been a subject for investigating, like the strange objects he sometimes finds in Hanji’s lab. The image comes crashing down around him like a brick wall and the realization that not all people are raised with a silver spoon hits him like a punch to the gut. He’s known it, of course, seen the beggars on the streets and homeless in the corners, but somehow always assumed that they’d put themselves in that position.

They’re both silent for a moment. Outside, the noises from a distant bar fight drift towards their window.

“I want you to join the Scouts.”

The words are out before he can stop them, but he knows that this, at least, is true.

“Why?”

Erwin thinks for a moment, strategizes. He needs a plan to make this work into his favour, steps, a mental map drawn out with millimeter precision. Fuck it, he thinks instead.

“Your reflexes are impressive. You can clearly fight, as well as defend yourself. To some degree,” he adds with a glance at Levi’s leg. He scowls back.

“You’re not fearless, but I think you’re wise enough to be afraid of the right things at the right time. I like to call that bravery,” Erwin concludes.

Levi has an odd expression on his face, like he’s not sure if he should believe him or not.

“So basically you want to send me on a suicide mission to fight big naked humanoids? I don’t think so,” he says. Erwin sighs.

“No. I think you’d make an excellent soldier. Something we have an alarming lack of at the moment.”

“What’s in it for me?” Levi asks, and it’s there, the tiniest spark of interest, well concealed in his dull eyes.

“A place to stay. Somewhere to belong. Glory, if you want it.”

“I don’t.”

“Figured as much.”

Another moment of silence.

“You either die here or die with us. It’s up to you. Do you want to live like this forever? Or do you want to make something with your life? Considering your situation, your thug friends apparently don’t want you around anymore.”

Levi doesn’t respond, just fiddles with a loose thread on his shirt.

“At least stay for tonight. Think it over.”

“No,” Levi says and stands. His leg is still trembling. “But thanks for patching me up. I appreciate it.” Erwin isn’t sure if it’s sarcasm or not.

Levi is at the door, pushing it open and stepping out. “See you around, soldier,” he says and then he’s gone, the door swinging shut behind his back.

Erwin stays on the floor.

-

Things shift.

It’s been weeks since the last time Erwin was in Sina, the planning of an upcoming expedition taking up the larger portion of his time. The days grow colder and his mind sometimes wanders to a too large and too thin jacket and broken boots, but he doesn’t let it stay there.

A failed experiment, like the one Hanji conducted with the hydrogen peroxide and the bread. _A damn shame, though. He would have made a good soldier_.

His superiors are talking about promotion and he knows that it won’t be far away, weeks rather than months. If he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t see how it’ll make that much of a difference.

He’ll receive another badge. His mother will cry, his father will nod twice in appreciation, or maybe pride.

_“You couldn’t convince him, then?”_

_“No, Hanji. I couldn’t.”_

_“Shame. He seemed like a fun guy.”_

Erwin is flipping through a few pages of reports when Hanji’s voice echoes in a high pitch uncharacteristic to her personality from the front door of the HQ.

“Oh my God! _You’re_ Levi!?”

He’s flown out of his seat and is striding towards the door before his mind can fully comprehend what’s happening.

Levi is there, alright. His hair is even longer than before and there’s a hole in the pants that hang too low on his hips. He shuffles his feet awkwardly and Erwin almost cracks a smile.

“Hello, soldier,” he says instead.

Levi glares from under his bangs.

-

Days will turn into months will turn into years and sooner rather than later, Levi will find himself with a title he doesn’t think he deserves and a nickname he’s sure someone like Erwin should have instead. Not Mike though, because that guy is weird as fuck, he tells Hanji one night. She barks a laugh at that and tells him stories of their first expeditions together. Levi is sure most of them are made up, but she swears on her precious contraband books that yes, she did actually take down three titans with just one swing.

People come and go, but there are constants, points to hang onto to make sure insanity stays away a just little longer.

Every day a dance with death, but it’s all right. Levi doesn’t really mind. The thought of eternity is ridiculous; everything comes to an end, be it with slowly or with a crunch of broken bones and a splatter of blood.

There’ll be a day when the walls come crumbling down and the people speak of titan shifters and war with the whisper of death as background noise in every conversation, omnipresent, but he thinks to himself, wasn’t it always?

Levi doesn’t dwell too much on it.

He puts on his wings instead.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to explore this scenario a little before the actual story about their past is released, so here you go! Gotta love me some thug Levi.


End file.
